The Span o' Life: A Tale of Louisbourg & QuebecMcIlwraith, Jean N. (Jean Newton)
History
The Span o' Life: A Tale of Louisbourg & Quebec
McIlwraith, Jean N. (Jean Newton)
United States -- History -- French and Indian War, 1754-1763 -- Fiction
I was so completely in his power that I mastered up all my courage,
and replied, bravely enough: "M. de Sarennes, I cannot but believe
I am safe in the charge of one whom I know as so loving a son, so
fond a brother. I trust you, too, as the friend of M. de Maxwell;
and I trust you, most of all, because you have learned my secret,
and, being a gentleman, I believe you will not betray it."
"I don't know how far I accept the compliment, but at all events,
madame, I shall say nothing of your affairs. Remember, though, it
rests chiefly with you to prevent suspicion. You must keep the same
free intercourse with me, and never allow my mother or sister to
gather by word, or sign, that the nature of our conference to-day
has been otherwise than pleasant. Now that we have come to an
understanding, no doubt some news of Louisbourg will be welcome."
As he spake we turned back towards the manor; his whole bearing so
changed in a moment that it was hard to believe the bright,
pleasant-spoken man by my side was the same creature of rough,
brutal instincts and feelings who had tortured and alarmed me so
cruelly. Little by little I recovered my composure, as he told of
the life in the fortress, of the probable investment by the English
in the spring--if they could then muster a sufficient fleet--of M.
de Drucour, of M. Prevost, and, best of all, of Hugh, though he
tried to disturb my peace by hinting at some understanding between
him and Madame Prevost.
"It all depends on you now, madame," he said, significantly, as he
held the door open for me to enter, and fortunately I had firmness
enough to control myself through the long evening and until I could
gain my room.
There I broke down utterly, as I knelt beside my bed, unable to
rise, or to control the sobs which shook my whole body.
Lucy was beside me in a moment.
"Dear heart! Dear heart! Let me help you," she murmured, raising
me to my feet, and beginning to undress me like a child, crooning
over me and quieting me with tender touches and gentle words.
"Oh, Lucy, speak to me, say something to comfort me. I am the most
unhappy woman alive."
"My dear, dear mistress, no one can be so unhappy that our Father
cannot comfort her. This is the time of all others when He is
nearest to you. You have but to stretch forth your hand to touch
His robe; you have but to open your heart to have Him come in and
fill it with the Peace which passeth understanding. I am an ignorant
woman, but I have this knowledge. I went through a sorrow, and what
I believed to be a disgrace, helpless and alone, and knew of no
comfort till He sent me His.
"I do not know your sorrow, I might not understand it if you told
me, but beside this bed is standing One who knew what it was to be
alone more than any other, and He is saying to you, 'Come, and I
will give you rest.'"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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